


Strength

by KieraElieson



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Gen, Mafia AU, abuse of a child
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:53:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25884640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KieraElieson/pseuds/KieraElieson
Summary: Roman accidentally joined the mafia.He’s given a job guarding the one hostage they have at the moment, but he can’t just leave the kid there.
Relationships: Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Morality | Patton Sanders
Comments: 11
Kudos: 63





	Strength

Roman shifted awkwardly. This wasn’t for him. He was supposed to be the knight in shining armor, not the thug hiding in the dark alley. But Remus was thriving, and Roman wasn’t about to let him run off and die being reckless, so he’d followed him, and got sucked in himself.

He didn’t think he even could leave now. 

The boss caught his eye, jerking her head to motion to a room off to the side. A shiver ran down Roman’s spine, but he followed her into the room. 

“Look, kid, that sucked out there.”

Roman nodded slightly. 

She sighed sharply. “Look. I’ll put you in charge of hostages, that’s all soft and easy.” sHe suddenly whipped out a gun, pointing it directly at his chest. “But you listen. If I say something, it happens. I don’t care what you think about it. If you try getting any of them out, you’ll both regret it.”

Roman was completely frozen, but managed to nod. 

  * •^*^••



They only had one hostage, holding some teen for ransom. Roman piled the sandwich high with meat and cheese, and grabbed a water bottle. 

This job really did seem easier. He was helping someone, even if they were captive, instead of trying to hurt people. And really all he was doing was feeding and guarding. 

He stopped, though, when he saw that there was a paper on the door.  _ Do not let out of the room. Cuffed when alone. Mark up before video or picture.  _

Roman grimaced. And then he smoothed his face into something even and hard. If he showed weakness, the teen might catch on and start begging. And he really, really wasn’t sure what he’d do if that happened. 

He opened the door, and was surprised that the room was completely dark. Was this the wrong one? A spare room? He flicked the light on, and a young boy on the other end of the room was illuminated by the weak bulb. His hands were cuffed behind him, and his knees pulled up to his chest as he huddled in the corner, stiff, and squinting hard, trying to see Roman even as his eyes adjusted. He was also gagged, which made less sense, since that wasn’t anything on the door, and a large bruise on his jaw showed around the edges of the gag. 

“Hey there,” Roman said, pitching his voice softer despite his intention of staying strong and aloof-seeming. 

The boy just tucked in tighter on himself, looking very small. He must be on the younger side of teenager. 

Roman set the food down on the ‘table’, which was really more like a shelf, and walked over to the kid. The kid ducked his head down, hiding his face in his knees, and started trembling.

Roman had a hard time keeping his face straight. He knelt down beside the kid and untied the gag, and then reached behind him to unlock the handcuffs. The kid looked up at him when he came back with the food, tears spilling silently out of his eyes.

“Thanks,” he said very quietly, his voice hoarse. He was still squinting at Roman, though his eyes ought to have adjusted by now. He rubbed his wrists and picked up the water first, downing nearly half the bottle before he set it back down. 

Roman felt slightly awkward, just watching him eat, and looked around the room, seeing a soft gray hoodie in the far corner, with glasses laying on top, as if they’d been dropped there. He gestured softly, not wanting to scare the kid, though he still flinched.

“Do you want those back?”

The kid’s face scrunched up oddly. “Can I just have the glasses?” he asked quietly.

Roman nodded, though he was surprised that the kid didn’t want the hoodie when it was rather chilly in the room. That confusion melted away when he bent to pick up the glasses and caught the distinct smell of urine. Something told him it wasn’t the kid’s fault either. 

He handed the glasses to the kid, who wiped them on his shirt carefully before putting them on. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, you’re welcome. Are you not hungry? You haven’t touched the sandwich.”

The kid’s voice came out only slightly louder than a whisper, and he stiffened up again, turning slightly as if he expected Roman to hit him as soon as he heard him. “I don’t eat meat. Sorry.”

“Oh. I didn’t know, kid. It’s alright. I can make you a PBJ if you want.”

He looked up at Roman, gnawing on his lip, his eyes shining with new tears. “Thanks,” he said quietly. 

Roman glanced to the door. “Alright. I have to cuff you if I leave, but I’ll come back soon with more food, and I can take your jacket and drop it in the wash.”

The kid nodded, his face getting pinched-looking again. “Will you bring my hoodie back when it’s clean?” he asked, his voice tremulous. 

“Yeah, of course I’ll bring it back.”

He nodded, a tear falling down his cheek, but his expression becoming hopeful and grateful.

Roman took a slow breath. He had to get out of here or he’d end up pledging his life to this kid.

“Here, give me your hands. They can be in the front, and you can keep drinking water until I get back, ok?”

The kid nodded, holding his hands out to Roman. His poor wrists were almost entirely a bruise, wrapping all the way around and up his forearms, where it was more clear that some of it was caused by harsh gripping. Roman tried to be gentle, but the kid still winced before taking his hands back and holding them in his lap.

Roman left the room, shutting and locking the door. The kid’s lunch would be just a bit late. He couldn’t go back in with tear-tracks on his face.

  * •^*^••



Patton pulled his knees back up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them. It seemed much warmer with his arms in front instead of behind, and he was  _ so  _ glad that the light was on!

Whoever this new person was seemed almost nice, which was such a massive change from the person before that it made Patton want to cry just from relief. He even was getting Patton something different, instead of forcing him to choke down the meat. Or maybe he wasn’t. Maybe he was just gone. But it wasn’t the first meal that had been just water, and Patton was glad enough for the change in position, and the light, and the gag being gone, that he’d be fine if it was. He even had his glasses. He just had to focus on the good things.

He’d dozed off when the door opened again, and he jolted awake, tucking himself back into the corner and curling up to protect what he could. 

The man looked apologetic as he set the plate down in front of Patton, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich sitting on it, and also a second bottle of water. He pulled a key out of his pocket and motioned. Patton held his arms out, bracing himself for pain, and letting out a sigh when it didn’t come, the man just unlocked the cuffs.

Patton scarfed down the sandwich, drinking the rest of the first bottle, since he had a second one.

The man nodded, and picked up the plate and the empty bottle. Patton quickly opened the second bottle and took a long swig, and then chanced a request. “Can I keep this? After you’re gone?”

It was a request with two meanings. The short time between before and now he’d been allowed the water bottle, but now that the man was leaving for a while, if he left the water, he probably would also leave the gag off.

“Yeah, sure.”

Patton managed to bring up a faint smile at that. “Thank you.”

The man gave him a smile back that was part grimace. “Yeah. Give me your hands again and then I’ll get out of your hair.”

Patton was less afraid this time to hold his hands out. This person made it so it didn’t even hurt until he tightened the cuffs.

“I’ll bring your hoodie back when I bring dinner.”

Patton felt a thrill of happiness. He was getting dinner! And he’d get his hoodie back! And clean! Tears welled up, even as he smiled. “Thank you!”

  * •^*^••



Roman was hiding. And shaking. His stomach heaved again and he gagged.

It’d been three days. Three days since he’d been given the job. The boss had given him warning in the form of pointing a gun at him again as the other man had gone towards the kid’s room with a camera. He’d heard the first terrified plea before the door was shut. 

He’d been allowed to leave, as long as he didn’t go into the kid’s room again before the other man was done, and he’d taken the out. He’d run, and hid, and here he was shaking as if he was the one in danger, when the poor kid was getting beat up for doing absolutely nothing wrong. 

He felt sick, and filthy, as if there was blood on his hands that would never be cleaned off. A sudden burst of angry desperation hit, and he slammed his fists against the ground, letting out a sound he didn’t even know how to describe.

The door to his room swung open. “Now that sounded more like me than you,” Remus laughed, but as soon as their eyes met he sobered. 

“Why?” Roman asked. 

Remus blinked, joining him in kneeling on the floor. “Why what?”

Why had Remus joined? Why did these people hurt both good and bad people? Why did they capture that kid? Why did they have to be trapped here? Why did they have to hurt the kid before the pictures? Why-- There were so many whys, and Roman choked on them all, tears pouring down his face. 

Remus looked genuinely concerned. “Ro, what happened?”

The whole last three days spilled out amidst great, wracking sobs. About the kid’s bruises, and unnatural skinniness, and how he flinched whenever the door opened, and his small, bright smiles, and thank yous, and how he wrapped himself up in the hoodie. And about what was happening. About what Roman wasn’t doing anything to stop. 

Remus grabbed Roman’s head and slammed his forehead into Roman’s roughly. Roman was stunned, his mind clearing into a single annoyed thought. 

“I’ll get you out. You and that kid. You get him to the garage and I’ll get you out of here.”

Roman’s eyes widened, and he nodded firmly, desperately. 

  * •^*^••



The door opened, not even an hour later, and Patton whimpered. “No, not more, please…”

The light flicked on, and it was the kind person, tears tracking down his face. 

Patton sniffed. Did they force him to come hurt Patton too?

“I’m taking you with me. We’re escaping. But you have to be quiet, ok?”

It couldn’t be true. It couldn’t. It was another cruel trick. 

“No, no, hey, please don’t cry. I’m…” The man’s voice thickened as if he was crying himself. “I’m so sorry.”

He took the cuffs off of Patton’s hands, and helped him to his feet, but Patton was shaking so he could barely stand, and  _ everything  _ hurt. 

“I’m going to pick you up, ok? We have to be fast, and quiet. I’ll be fast if you can be quiet, ok?”

Patton sniffed, still not quite trusting. But it was the best chance he’d been offered this whole long time. So he nodded, rubbing his face with the sleeves of his hoodie. 

The man squatted down and Patton climbed onto his back, holding on tightly.

“Alright, it’s just a bit of a run and you’ll be out of here.”

Patton leaned his forehead against the back of the man’s neck in silent acknowledgement. 

He still could barely believe it was real when he was huddled in the backseat of a car, which was swerving wildly as they were chased and shot at. And he was positive that it had to be a dream when they got to a house, no longer chased, and he was let into a room with a large bed, and no handcuffs, and the door was left cracked open with the hallway light on. Especially when he was patched up with medicine and soft bandages made out of old t-shirts, and when the pain really faded away.

He fell asleep sure that he’d wake up back in that dark room.

But he didn’t. He woke up to the smell of burnt bacon and cheap coffee, and shortly after the sound of a door banging open, and his dad’s voice calling his name desperately.

Only wrapped up in his dad’s arms did he finally realize that it was real. 

  * •^*^••



“Aww, you’ve always been a sap,” Remus said, elbowing Roman. 

Roman was unashamedly crying. The little kid was gone now, safe with his dad. The police had been called, and told all the whole situation. They’d protect the kid and his family. But they were also coming to arrest Roman and Remus.

“I can still get us out, you know. If I avoided her and her goons, I can avoid police.” Remus said.

Roman shook his head. “I’m testifying. I don’t care what happens to me, she’s going down.”

  
  



End file.
